The Rhythm and the Rhyme
by andipossess
Summary: Link overhears a late night conversation between his uncle and a mysterious visitor. Turns out the king of the desert has issued a challenge to Hyrule: defeat him in a battle, one-on-one, or face invasion. Sounds like a job for a hero-in-the-making, right?


**The Legend of Zelda: The Rhythm and the Rhyme**

Whispers woke Link from slumber. Two hushed voice floated up from the bottom floor, too quiet for him to hear clearly. He pulled the covers off and stumbled out of bed, wincing as his feet hit the cold wooden floorboards.

He crept down the landing, cringing at even the slightest creaking his movements made.

"Is there no one else?" came one voice. It was rough and had an odd twang to it, audible despite the whispers. Link could recognize his uncle's voice anywhere.

The second was a mystery to him. "No, Sir Knight. You are the last." A woman? Someone about his age maybe, from the cadence and intonation. He craned his neck to try to get a better view at the guest at the table, but all he could see was a slight figure shrouded in a dark and heavy cloak. A hood veiled the person's face in shadow.

"I see." His uncle sounded resigned as he gave a weary sigh. "If this is the way of it, then I'll lend my aid." With some effort, he rose from his chair, which groaned as he moved. "Pray allow me a moment to gather myself, Your Majesty?" Link shoved his hand over his mouth to stopper a gasp. He froze, hoping neither had heard him.

If they had, they made no acknowledgement of it. Instead, the figure (royalty?) nodded and rose as well. "I shall meet you at the appointed place then." With graceful steps, the mysterious figure stepped through the doorway and into the cool night air but, before vanishing into the night, spoke without turning back, "Thank you for your service, Champion of Hyrule."

"'Tis a pleasure to serve, My Princess."

Then, she was gone.

His uncle shoved the door shut, running a meaty hand through his thinning hair and grumbling to himself.

Link crawled back toward the upstairs with the words he'd caught running endlessly through his mind. He had so many questions he wanted to ask his uncle, but dare he ask?

"You're not foolin' anyone, boy. I know you're up there listenin'."

Turning toward the voice, Link found his uncle, brows furrowed, staring at him from the foot of the stairs. He gave a sheepish grin and chuckled, hoping he wasn't in too much trouble.

"You shouldn't've heard any of that," his uncle said. He dropped audibly back into his chair, which groaned in protest. "The Princess—no—the Kingdom has itself a problem. The king of the desert claims that he cannot be defeated in battle. Should even one of ours defeat him, he says, he will stop his designs to take Hyrule, but when no more stand against him, he will wage terrible war against us." He slammed his fist against the table. "This is a chance we must take to avoid the death of men, but our people fear the king of the desert. No one has taken up the challenge."

Link couldn't blame them. This desert king sounded like the kind of man to avoid at all costs. Which meant the Princess, or whoever was here, had asked his uncle to do what no other would.

"You've worked it out for yourself, then." His uncle leaned back in his seat. "That's right, the Princess Zelda herself is askin' me to come out of retirement and take up arms. Right bit of a spot she's put me in. I'm not as young as I used to be." He cackled without any real humor before being overcome by a fit of coughs.

Link rubbed his uncle's back as the fit subsided. This scheme of the princess's sounded like an awful idea. His uncle was in _no_ condition to be fending off a housecat, let alone a warrior king.

"I won't let you take my place, boy!" his uncle growled. "Not while there's still life in these bones."

Link was taken aback by the vehemence in his uncle's voice.

"It's more than just the promise, Link. You oughtn't throw your life away. You're young, and I–I can't let you get hurt."

Link understood, not that he particularly agreed with his uncle's conclusion, but he wasn't about to argue now.

His uncle choked out a dry chuckle. "I can tell you aren't pleased. I won't begrudge you that." He closed his eyes. "I'd rather give you a few more moments of life than have you fall before I do. I hope that's not too bad a wish for an old fool like me."

The two sat silent for a moment, savoring what may be their last moments together.

Finally, his uncle stood. "I should be off. The princess waits, and the king of the desert waits, too. I doubt he's a patient man."

With a nod, Link retrieved the family sword and shield as his uncle shrugged on a cloak. With both items in hand, his uncle bade him goodbye and disappeared into the night.

Well, it wasn't like Link was just going to _let_ him go. He hurried back upstairs to grab his cloak, stumbling on his way back down. He was about two steps to the door when he remembered the spare lantern sitting on the table. With that in hand, he crossed over the threshold and into the cold night air.

Even with the cloak wrapped around his shoulders, Link shivered. Who thought summer could be so cold? He spotted his uncle's flame a ways into the distance. With light steps, he moved closer, trying not to lose sight of the older man.

It was only a short trip from their home to Castletown: twenty minutes at most by foot—to nearby Kakariko Town, it was nearly five times that—, but the slow methodical pace of Link's uncle made the trip feel like hours. Hours of watching his guardian march to his doom.

When they finally arrived at Castletown gates, Link's uncle paused. "What did I tell you, boy?" he said aloud. "You're not foolin' anyone."

Link contemplated staying in the bush, but instead sighed and crawled into plain sight.

"You think it's courage, boy? To sneak about in the night when you ought to be sleeping tight in your bed? Courage. Bah! That's stupidity. Courage is knowing when to fight and when to stand down."

His uncle's steely glare bore into him. It was easy to forget that that the man before him had been captain of the guard for nearly a decade before injury forced him into early retirement. The townspeople say none of his replacements came close. Still, Link fought back his urge to cower and run and stared right back.

When after moments Link didn't turn away, his uncle sighed. "You're determined, aren't you?"

Link nodded.

"Fine. You can come, but stay close, and don't—" and his uncle jabbed at Link's chest with a finger "—butt in. I'm not lettin' you make yourself a martyr, boy. Not on my sister's grave."

They walked side by side. One of the castle guards gave Link a curious glance, but with a nod led them into the arena.

There was a crowd, but not a large one. A small cadre of desert-kin sat at on one end, their flame-like hair glowing bright in the torchlight. At the other end were the king of Hyrule and his daughter, with the cloak still wrapped around her but the hood down. Her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, shining in contrast to the dark cloth. Around them were guards, mostly, but also some older men and women Link thought he recognized. Advisors?

In the center of the arena stood the king of the desert. His hair was bright red like the rest of his tribe, but unlike the slimmer more athletic musculature of the women who dominated, the king was muscular and foreboding, towering over the tallest of his tribeswomen who themselves towered over the Hylians. He spotted the two newcomers and laughed. "Rejoice, King of Hyrule! Your champion has arrived!"

With heavy steps, he trod over to Link and his uncle. "So, which one of you wishes to battle? Is it the warmed-over old warrior?" His hard eyes looked Link over. "Or is it the green child." He laughed raucously at what Link could only surmise was a joke no one else got.

"I am your opponent," his uncle said. "The boy, he's," he hesitated, "here to watch."

The king chuckled. "Very well. No sense refusing more attendees." He grinned at Link with teeth stained yellow. "Go on, get yourself a nice view. Curtains are about to rise."

Link bit back a retort when he caught his uncle's gaze. With a nod, he made his way toward the princess's side of the arena, his wary gaze never leaving the king of the desert. Unnervingly, the king stared back.

The princess gestured at a seat beside her own, and he sat in the deafening silence, waiting white-knuckled for the battle to begin.

The king of Hyrule got to his feet and announced in the same booming voice he used when he spoke to the throng of townspeople. "The Champion of Hyrule, Sir Cheney, accepts your challenge, King of the desert. Let the battle commence!"

And with those words, a rhythmic pounding began as both sides beat the floor with their feet and polearms and slapped their hands on the wooden seats and posts. With the din surrounding them, the two men began.

It was a slaughter. Although his uncle struck first, the king of the desert's response was quick. Link had never seen a man spit fire, yet the king had done so as though it was his everyday. Maybe it was. Link was unfamiliar with desert-kin customs.

Each of his uncle's blows was swiftly parried and returned with greater edge. His uncle fought with the graceful style of the Hyruleans, but he was rustier than the sword he carried. The king, on the other hand, was rough and styleless, but the rhythm of his strikes was overpowering and unrelenting. It made Link sick just hearing his uncle struggle. He closed his eyes and covered his ears, but the chamber amplified the sounds and he couldn't escape.

His uncle was growing weary, his breath ragged. He was having trouble even gracefully finishing a riposte, and his rhythm was suffering as a result. And without rhythm, the battle would be lost.

Link ground his teeth as the king of the desert prepared for a final blow. Spittle tore from the king's mouth as he raised his voice, the desert-kin cheering loudly at his inevitable victory.

Link shut his eyes. This couldn't be the end. No! _NO!_

Then suddenly all was silent. He opened his eyes and found shocked eyes from all sides staring at him. His uncle looked at him, mouth agape, and the king of the desert was seething.

"You _dare_ interrupt my battle, boy?!" He pointed a large blade toward the royals sitting adjacent to Link. "Are all you Hyruleans so disrespectful, or is this boy the exception? Come down here, boy. Lessons need to be learned."

"I must protest!" the king of Hyrule exclaimed. "He is yet a child."

"All the better to educate him now," the other king said gravely. "Did he or did he not interrupt my challenge? If you must renege, Good King Hyrule, I will do what I must as well."

To Link's horror, his own king sat back down. "As you say." A deep frown formed on his face, his already wrinkled brow beset with deeper creases. "He shall face you in his uncle's place."

"No!" shouted Link's uncle from the bowels of the arena. "Please don't—!" Suddenly, his body was again wracked with coughs.

"Be silent, wretch." The king of the desert turned his head toward Link who was clambering down the arena wall. "Maybe the boy will put up a better fight than you did." He raised a finger, nails painted black, at Link. "Impress me and you might live through my takeover."

Link just stared, too scared to reply but too determined to run. He gulped.

"What are you waiting for?" the king shouted at the crowd. "I'm all warmed up now! Let's make this quick!"

The pounding began again, this time more rapidly, like a pulse synchronizing with Link's heartbeat. He was shaking, but the power of the rhythm was taking him over.

"Your move, boy," his opponent said.

Link nodded. He found his footing and struck.

* * *

"I'm impressed, Link," the princess told him. "I had no idea you were so skilled in the art of rhyme. For one so untrained, you spit fire as well as he does."

One of the desert-kin women nodded in agreement. "Sure did! I've never thought I'd see someone ever beat the boss like—I mean, you gave him just enough rope to—and, damn, pulling out that fishing line? I've never seen him so taken aback. Where'd that even come from? And, man, that hook improv must've been a real shot to the ego."

Link scratched his head in embarrassment.

"Put time into this, Link," the princess added. "Right now it may feel like catching a fairy in a bottle, but with practice, you'll be a master wordsman, I guarantee it. Better even than your uncle in his prime. A real Champion of Hyrule."

"That's not a bad idea." The desert-kin woman rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Ooh, just thinking about it is giving me chills. I can't _wait_ to hear more from you in the future, kid. To be honest, the rest of us weren't quite so gung ho as the king about taking over the place. That sort of thing isn't exactly the way we normally do things, you understand. But I personally came for the rap battle. Can't resist a good one. Didn't think you people'd actually have it in you to put up a fight. No offense."

The princess cleared her throat. "Yes, well, the average Hyrulean may not be quite so well-versed, but those who endeavor it become true masters of the craft."

"Well, if his performance just now was any indication, it sounds like you've got another soon-to-be master in your hands. Make your words count, kid."

Link gave a sharp nod. Of course he'd do his best, but this felt like a lot of pressure all of a sudden.

The princess smiled at him. "He'll do just fine, I think. And some day, he'll show all of us a real master's words."


End file.
